_Accession of George III—flattering aspect of British affairs at that
period—general expectation then of the commencement or approach of
halcyon days and a golden age—those expectations have not been yet
realized—on the contrary_, _the nation has witnessed and experienced a
very different order or state of things_—_Views of the affairs of Lynn
for the first twenty years of this reign_.
Upon the demise of the late king, he was succeeded by his grandson the
prince of Wales, under the name of _George the third_; who was
immediately proclaimed, with the usual ceremonies, when he made a most
gracious declaration to his privy-council, which gave great satisfaction,
and was much applauded. On the 8th of September 1761 he was married to
the princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg Strelitz, and on the 22nd. of the
same month their majesties were crowned at Westminster Abbey. The issue
of this marriage is more numerous than that of any of our former
sovereigns; at least, for many ages past; so that it is not likely that
there will happen here soon any dispute about the regal succession.
No prince ever ascended the throne of these realms more with the
approbation, or to the satisfaction of the nation at large than did
George III; nor do we know of any other of our sovereigns at whose
accession there was so fair and bright a prospect of a happy and glorious
reign. The people universally expected it, and thought they had a right
so to do, on account of that proud and unrivalled preeminence which the
nation had lately acquired among the powers of Europe, and of the world.
In this expectation, however, we have been disappointed; for those fond
and sanguine hopes which were once so confidently entertained and
cherished have never yet been realized; and it is not very likely now
that they ever will. We live at a most eventful period, so that it is no
great wonder that our disasters and disappointments were not foreseen
fifty years ago.
Our miscarriages have been so numerous, and the wrongheadedness of our
Statesmen and public functionaries so notorious, as to give no small
countenance, if not entirely to justify, the opinion of those who assert
that the Evil Genius of Britain has presided in its councils, and has had
the sole direction of its affairs, with very few exceptions, for the last
fifty years, at least. Strong symptoms of political wrongheadedness and
ministerial depravity appeared as early as the time when the machine of
government was committed to the management of lord Bute, with his
coadjutors and underlings. The affair of general warrants, and the
project for taxing America, rendered those symptoms still more visible
and alarming, while our persisting in our dispute with the Colonists, and
undertaking to answer their arguments and silence their complaints by the
mouth of our cannon, demonstrated our despotic character and boundless
infatuation, and prepared the world to behold, without surprise, the
folly and insanity of our subsequent projects and undertakings.
It was hoped by many that the disastrous result of the American war would
have brought us to our senses. But it did not so happen. Our subsequent
conduct has been for the most part as unwise and senseless as ever it was
during our dispute and war with America. Had we been capable of serious
reflection, the American war would, doubtless, have brought us to it.
Dear-bought experience is said to have been of great use to some people;
but it has been in this case quite useless to us; though experience has
seldom been more dearly bought than that which Britain has acquired by
the American war. In fact, it does not seem that experience is of so
much use to mankind, as is generally supposed; not because it is useless
in itself, or incapable of making us wiser, but because most people are
no way disposed to avail themselves of its aid, and choose to follow
their passions rather than their reason. They seemingly hate to look
back and recollect former mischances, or to profit by past experience.
Both the past and the future appear to be by them equally disregarded.
The present employs all their thoughts; and whatsoever errors they may
have committed, or inconvenience experienced on that account, little care
is generally taken to guard against their repetition or recurrence. Such
is the case with nations as well as individuals. So the world goes: and
thus, in spite of past experience, every age performs its own folly, and
re-acts or repeats the absurdities and crimes of its predecessors.
Sometimes the national errors and follies of one age appear to exceed
those of the preceding age, and even of many preceding ages. This has
been thought applicable to the present period. Our domestic grievances
from different administrations, for the last fifty years, our treatment
of the _Caribbs of St. Vincent_, {941} together with our American and
subsequent wars, and also the affair of the _Spanish frigates_, and of
_Copenhagen_, seem to exceed _tenfold_ all our internal grievances and
public ministerial enormities for the preceding fifty, or even _seventy_
years. What addition will be made to this catalogue during the remainder
of this reign, it is impossible to foresee; but it is to be hoped that
things ere long will take a more favourable turn, as it is surely high
time they should.
These observations we shall now conclude, in the words of one of the
historians of this reign—“In comparing (says he) the brilliant and
auspicious commencement of the reign of the present monarch with the dark
and dreadful scenes which ensued (and, it is painful to add, with those
which at [this] advanced period seem yet impending) the imagination is
led forcibly to advert to the sublime symbolical representations
introduced by a poet of the highest order, Mr. Gray, in his celebrated
Ode of _The Bard_, in allusion to the catastrophe terminating the reign
of Richard II. in the splendor of its opening dawn, and its subsequent
_fatal indiscretions_, bearing no very distant analogy to the present.
{942}
“Fair laughs the morn, and soft the Zephyr blows;
While proudly riding o’er the azure realm
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes;
Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm;
Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind’s sway.
That hush’d in grim repose expects his evening prey.”
Of the transactions and occurrences that constitute the history of Lynn
for the first twenty years of this reign we know of none that can be
deemed very interesting or important. Some of them, however, are no less
so than many of those that have been already related, and therefore
cannot be silently passed over, or omitted, without departing from the
plan which has been hitherto pursued. In regard to this period, as well
as the preceding ones, it is much to be wished we could throw some
further light on the internal state of the town, or what relates to the
domestic character, social habits, or lives and manners of the
inhabitants. Here, however, our materials have always proved very
scanty; and the same has been generally the case with other historical
writers. This work, accordingly, often appears as a history of the
_corporation_; rather than of the town at large, or of the whole
community; because our materials relate chiefly to that chartered body,
placing all the rest far in the back ground, and often quite out of
sight. This is to be regretted.
Among the memorable events which took place at Lynn about, or soon after
the commencement of this reign, was the falling of the tower or steeple
of South Lynn church. This happened, according to one of our MS.
narratives, during the second mayoralty of Walter Robertson, which
commenced at Michaelmas 1761. This is said to have been a strong square
tower, about 82 feet high, with stone battlements; having thereon a shaft
and vane 30 feet high. It had in it also, as Parkin says, five tuneable
bells: and it appears to have in its fall demolished a good part of the
west end of the church. The damage, as to the church, was soon repaired,
but the tower was never afterwards rebuilt. South Lynn makes now a much
humbler appearance than it did in former days, when it was adorned with
two lofty towers; that which we have now mentioned, and that of the
Carmelite convent, which stood a little way off, adjoining to that
convent, in what is now called _The Friars_. This tower is said to have
fallen in 1690: so that the tower of the parish Church stood above 130
years longer; owing, perhaps, to its being kept in better repair; though
it may be supposed to have been, like the other, neglected afterwards.
Much about the time of which we have been speaking, another remarkable
event occurred within our municipal or admiralty jurisdiction. This was
the taking of a large _whale_, near _Beverley creek_, according to one
account, or near _Darsingham_, according to the _Norfolk Remembrancer_;
which further says, that it was 56 feet 9 inches long, and 34 feet 4
inches in girth; and moreover, that it was taken on the 27th. of March
1762. If we are not mistaken there was some dispute about it between our
mayor of that time and Mr. Styleman, or some other gentleman of the
vicinity of the place where it was taken. But we believe that the
former’s right to it was, in the end, established. There have been other
instances of whales being taken on this coast, though it happens but
rarely.
On December 2nd. 1763, a dreadful high wind and tide made great ravages
here: many ships were wrecked on the coast, and an incredible number of
cattle and sheep were drowned in Marshland, &c. Among other sufferers, a
Mr. Barrell and a Mr. Corfe, of Snettisham, lost 800 sheep each, as we
find in the _Norfolk Remembrancer_.—In the following year, during the
second mayoralty of Philip Case, the town, according to one of our MS.
narratives, was served a trick which could not possibly redound to the
credit of our rulers. “Purfleet Fleet was then cleaned, from the bridge
to the clough adjoining to Kettle Mills river; and the filth and mud
carried away by boats into the haven, to the great annoyance of the
harbour and the forming of a bar there.” This was certainly bad enough,
but the worst is still behind. The charge of scouring or cleaning the
Fleets, it seems, belonged to the corporation: but, in this instance, it
was contrived to throw it on the inhabitants, who were accordingly
subjected to an assessment, or tax, which amounted to a sum of no less
than 2000_l._ This, to say the least of it, seems to have been a very
shabby affair; but some will think it much less so than our famous
_paving jobb_.
In the third mayoralty of John Cary senior, which commenced in 1765, a
shocking murder was committed here by one John Rudderham, (commonly and
ironically called _honest John_) for which bloody and horrid deed he was
soon after tried, condemned, and executed. Such, it has been said, was
the deplorable depravity and ignorance of this unhappy wretch, that he
appeared not to have any sense of moral evil, or any idea of the
existence of a Supreme Being, and of a future state. Though born and
brought up in a christian country, and even deemed a member of a
christian church, yet he was utterly ignorant of every thing belonging to
christianity, as appeared from the first conversation he had with a
person who attended him while under sentence of death. Being asked by
that person, if he had _ever heard of the Lord Jesus Christ_? He
seriously answered that he could not positively say whether he had or
not: “and yet (said he) I do rather think that I have really heard
something of _such a gentleman_, though I cannot now remember what it
was.” It is to be feared there were a great many more here at the same
time in a similar predicament, or equally ignorant. Yet, if we are not
misinformed, a motion made, about that period, to establish here a school
for the instruction of poor children, was actually negatived, as a
needless and useless measure, and what might prove inimical to social
order, and destructive of all intellectual distinction between rich and
poor, gentlemen and plebeians. It is pleasing to contemplate that our
higher powers were actuated by better and nobler ideas latterly, when the
Lancasterian school was proposed and established. May this prove the
dawn of a more liberal and brighter day.
In 1768, during the mayoralty of Charles Turner, which commenced the
preceding year, the town was much agitated by a very violent contested
election, chiefly between Sir John Turner bart. and Crisp Molineaux Esq;
for the honourable Thomas Walpole Esq. the other candidate, was
apparently pretty sure of gaining his election. He was accordingly
returned, and Sir John along with him, owing, as one of our MS.
narratives suggests, to the bribing exertions of a certain eminent
merchant, who expended 7000_l._ and upwards on the occasion. It was,
however, the last time Sir John was returned for this town: Molineaux was
returned along with Walpole at the next general election. After all, it
seems to have been a very foolish business; for this same candidate does
not appear to have been a person of any character, or who was endowed
with such talents or qualifications as could recommend him for a senator
in preference to Turner. Such has been, however, too often the case in
our contested elections.
This is supposed to have been the greatest of all our Contested
Elections, except that very memorable one in 1747, which probably far
exceeded every thing of the kind ever known here. As the particulars of
it were little known to the present writer, till his observations on the
preceding reign had been printed off, he hopes the reader will excuse his
giving some account of it here, though somewhat out of place. The
opposition was chiefly aimed against Sir John Turner, the same,
seemingly, that was opposed in the last mentioned contest, and father of
the present Lady Folkes. His opponent was William Folkes Esq. father of
the present Sir Martin. He is said to have been a very respectable man,
though he was charged on this occasion with breach of a promise made to
Lord Orford, not to stand candidate at that time for this town. What
foundation there was for such a charge, or how the case really stood, it
may be now difficult, or, perhaps, impossible to determine.
Though the prejudice against Turner was strong and extensive, and the
opposition fierce and violent, yet he gained his election; but he was
thought to owe it less to his own interest and management than to the
favour and influence of the Walpoles, who were supposed to have greatly
befriended him in that instance. At the close of the poll the numbers
were—for _Walpole_ 199; for _Turner_ 184; for _Folkes_ 131. The
following Extract of a Letter written at that very time by a person of
much wit and shrewdness, and who was an eye witness of the whole scene,
will give the reader a striking, and we presume a just idea of the state
of this town during that turbulent contest. Whether or not we are still
capable of the like excesses, or extravagances, is a question that may
not be unworthy of very serious consideration. It is to be wished it
might he answered in the _negative_.
“Since you left us,” (says the Letter-writer alluded to,) “we’ve had
a Contested Election, and perhaps as violent an one as any in England
where the affair was not carried to bloodshed. I will be very
particular in my account of it because ’twill amuse you.—The sudden
bringing on the Elections all over England was a wise thing. As soon
as ’twas known here that members were to be elected in about 3 weeks
time, people of the lower sort got together in the Evenings in
clusters, talking, how little good *** did to the town, &c.—This set
a spirit agoing, and in 2 or 3 nights, they met about xxxv of ’em, at
an alehouse, with C— P—t drunk at the head of them, whom they would
fain have for a m—r of p—t. C—s treated the company, and the next
morning gave them a whet, met ’em again in the evening, and the next
evening, and then had shewn spite enough to *** whom he hates, to
make it necessary for them to look about ’em. But where should they
look? *** was in Gl—rshire with his wife, who was every moment
expecting to cry out, and had sent a Letter, hoping to be chosen
without coming at all. L—d O. was at H—n and his cousin H—’s son
being the person that was to stand with S—r J—, my L—d was applied
to, by our gentlemen, to let him know that the people grew rude and
clamorous, and that unless somebody appeared, and care was taken of
them, they feared Mr. F—s might be induced to give ’em some trouble,
by becoming a candidate. My L—d told them there was no fear of that,
for he had a Letter from Mr. F—s the post before, utterly disclaiming
any design of that sort, which Letter he shewed them. So they all
came away satisfied. Notwithstanding their satisfaction, and the
good grounds any body would have thought they had for it, within 4
days after this F—s came down, and was introduced by A. T—, Dr. B—,
H. F—, J. F—, J—n M—r, and several more, in coaches, chaises, &c.
several 100 horsemen, Flags, Guns, Drums, and all the Racket that
could possibly be made. Neither T— nor W— were here, and all were in
distraction. Expresses were sent. L—d O. got here that night. S—
J— could not possibly get here of two days and half. So on the
Saturday night he came, and the Election was to be on the Monday.
From the time of F—s setting out from London, the Public Houses were
opened, and continued so; so that here was nothing but men and women
and children drunk, old women especially, wallowing about the
streets, and half of ’em with their backsides exposed to public view,
and fellows a clapping of ’em.”
By this time every one must clearly see what a Bedlam of a place Lynn
was, during this electioneering bustle. Our Letter-writer, no doubt,
gives a pretty faithful and correct picture of what then occurred; on
which account some of our readers will be desirous of hearing him
further: but as his description now occasionally becomes somewhat coarse,
if not indelicate, we shall place the remainder of the extract below,
that those who wish to see more of it may have an opportunity to gratify
themselves. {950} We shall now return from this digression, and resume
the thread of our history.
Though Sir John Turner gained his election, as one of our parliamentary
representatives, in his contest with Molineaux, and was sometime after
chosen mayor of this town; yet his influence here soon appeared to be
fast declining. His friends in the Hall resigned and withdrew, one after
another, till the interest of that family became at last quite
annihilated, after having been very great, and almost unrivalled, for a
whole century. But there is nothing strange or wonderful in this. It is
the usual course of things in this world. Families, as well as nations
and empires, have their day, beyond which they cannot extend their power,
or their greatness.
About the year 1769 our corporation had a great lawsuit with a Mr. Carr
of Massingham, father of our late merchant of that name. But they lost
their cause; owing, as it has been suggested, to the perjury of one of
Carr’s principal witnesses. The suit is said to have been brought on to
oblige the corporation to open and scour the Fleet from Salter’s Sluice
to Littleport-bridge, which was necessary for the accommodation of the
plaintiff, who had granaries contiguous to that fleet. The corporation,
on their part, pleaded that the flood-door of the bridge had been put
down a hundred years before, and therefore that the requisition could not
be binding upon them. But the said witness, who was only 56 years old,
swore that he had in his youth, for the sake of robbing an orchard, swam
over, near Salter’s clough, when the water there was ten feet deep. This
satisfied the jury, and determined them to give their verdict against the
corporation. They were consequently obliged to clear and open the said
fleet; and it has been kept so ever since; which seems very proper and
necessary. But supposing it really true, that the work had been
neglected, and the fleet suffered to silt and fill up for a whole
century; still, even that very neglect must have been the fault of the
corporation, who are bound to keep the fleets open; so that they could
not be justified in resisting Mr. Carr’s requisition. To have removed
the nuisance, at once, instead of going to law, had been far more
creditable.
About the year 1770, a very unusual and marvellous phenomenon appeared
here; which was no other than a violent patriotic spirit, or what in more
recent times, or modern cant, would have been denominated _Jacobinism_.
Our Gentlemen seemed then, all of a sudden, to have become mighty
admirers of liberty, and of _John Wilkes_. That redoubted champion of
freedom was soon invited to this town, and actually honoured it with his
patriotic presence in February 1771, to the no small joy of our body
corporate, who received him with open arms, entertained him most
sumptuously, and conferred upon him the freedom of this ancient borough.
All this was very well. We do not mean to blame them for it. But it was
very different from the treatment, or reception, which another patriot,
of no less virtue and respectability, met with here at a subsequent
period. We mean _Thelwall_, who visited us some years ago, for the
purpose of promulgating the principles of political liberty and genuine
patriotism. But those principles, by that time, were become so very
unfashionable and disreputable here, that the patriotic lecturer could
get no hearing; and he was glad to escape with a whole skin and unbroken
bones. The politicks of _William Pitt_ had now completely superseded
those of _John Wilkes_. So the world goes: what is sound doctrine, at
one time, is heresy and sedition, and even blasphemy and treason, at
another.
At the time of which we have been last speaking, our dispute with the
American patriots had made considerable progress: and it might be
supposed that as this town appeared so decidedly and warmly in favour of
Wilkes, it would have appeared no less so in favour of the Americans.
But it happened far otherwise. We eagerly caressed Wilkes, and openly
espoused his cause, but towards the oppressed and much injured Americans
we appeared very differently affected. During that long and unhappy
dispute, and the unjust and bloody war that ensued, no measure was here
adopted expressive of abhorrence, or even of disapprobation of the course
taken by our government; or yet of concern and commiseration for the
unmerited sufferings of our transatlantic brethren. How much more
honourable and dignified had it been to have acted differently, and
boldly borne our testimony against the injustice and folly of our own
government, and in behalf of the reasonable and well-founded claims of
the colonists? How respectable, in that case, would Lynn have now
appeared among its sister boroughs, when the whole reasonable and
enlightened world, with one voice, is reprobating that dispute, and that
war, as the undoubted offspring of the most tyrannic disposition, or the
most perfect insanity? {955} Nor is it at all improbable that impartial
posterity will consider our subsequent wars, and not a few of our public
transactions, as having actually sprung from the same parentage.
Soon after the commencement of the American War the great maritime powers
discovered a strong disposition to favour the resistance of the
colonists, which gave us no small offence; so that by degrees things came
to an open rupture between this country and those powers. France, Spain,
and Holland, accordingly, became parties in the contest; and the northern
armed neutrality, with the general aspect of all other nations, pretty
plainly shewed that there was scarcely a single state throughout
Christendom, but what decidedly and heartily reprobated the part we were
acting. It was therefore no wonder that the American war did prove
unsuccessful, and eventually terminate in the discomfiture and disgrace
of this country; and even stamp upon our counsels indelible and eternal
infamy.
The effect of the war with America, and with the European powers before
mentioned, was severely felt at Lynn. Our trade was much cramped, many
of our ships were captured, our sailors were reduced mostly to old men
and lads, by those guardians of the constitution, and demonstrators of
the unalienableness of our rights, and reality of our freedom, the _press
gangs_. These myrmidons, when any of our young and best sailors fell in
their way, if they did not tamely submit to be taken, would pursue them
like wild beasts, and, when they came up with them, would knock them on
the head, like dogs, with their bludgeons, and then drag them with the
utmost indignity to the house of rendezvous, or on board the tender.
There the poor fellows were left to cool, and compose themselves: and the
very next day, perhaps, would be heard singing, in the house of their
captivity, “Rule Britannia;” and “Britons never will be slaves.” It may
be well for the nation, or, at least, for its rulers, that the ideas of
our sea-faring people, respecting liberty and thraldom, are considerably
different from those of some other people.—Being now come to the end of
the first twenty years of this reign, we shall here close the present
section.